


training wheels

by mywordsflyup



Series: everywhere [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, M/M, The Netherlands, lots of gin and making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 01:41:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mywordsflyup/pseuds/mywordsflyup
Summary: They move into the new apartment at the end of April, just as the trees lining the canal start to bloom. It’s not much of a safe house, a small top floor apartment in the middle of town. But all things considered, it could be worse.





	

They move into the new apartment at the end of April, just as the trees lining the canal start to bloom. It’s not much of a safe house, a small top floor apartment in the middle of town. But all things considered, it could be worse.

 

After Brussels, the town must seem like a village to Hanzo. Jesse has spent enough time at the ass end of nowhere to know the difference. But there’s something about it that almost makes it seem unreal. Tiny houses and tiny bridges and bicycles wherever he looks.

 

He’s been to Amsterdam once, years ago. But this is different.

 

“We should get bikes,” Jesse says on their first grocery run, as they walk past the long row of bikes parked in front of the supermarket. “Can’t shake the feeling we look mighty suspicious on foot.”

 

Hanzo eyes the bike right next to entrance as if it might explode at any moment. “I do not think so.”

 

“Hey now, I don’t mean right away. But maybe when my knee’s all healed up...”

 

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, excruciatingly slow. “You do not know how to ride a bike.”

 

Jesse opens his mouth but before he can even say a word, Hanzo steps through the doors and vanishes inside the supermarket. He follows him quickly before the automatic doors can shut right in front of him.

 

“You don’t know… Wait, have I told you that?”

 

Hanzo’s already picked up one of the red plastic baskets by the door and makes his way towards the produce section, as if he’s been here a million times before. “Last year in Canberra. Your grandmother meant to teach you but she never found the time.”

 

Jesse lets out a low whistle and takes the basket when Hanzo hands it to him to pick out some figs. “I gotta say, sweetheart. Your good memory is scary when you use it against me like that.”

 

Hanzo throws him a quick look over his shoulder, amusement written in every line of his face. “Is that using it against you?”

 

“Semantics.” Jesse picks out a couple of decent-looking avocados. “You could teach me.”

 

“My good memory?”

 

He bumps his hip against Hanzo’s. “Riding a bike.”

 

“I never learned it either.”

 

“Huh.” Jesse takes the little plastic bag full of figs from him and places it in the basket with the avocados. Hanzo doesn’t look like he’s waiting for a proper response, already moving on to the lettuce. Jesse doesn’t remember if Hanzo told him about this already. He doesn’t remember having a conversation about this topic at all. He doesn’t doubt it’s the truth, though.

 

“Not a lot of practical uses for bike riding when you are supposed to become the head of my family,” Hanzo says, weighing a head of lettuce in one hand, without looking at him. There’s a tight knot somewhere deep in Jesse’s chest that pulls a little tighter when he thinks about Hanzo’s childhood. Not that his own has been exactly peaches and roses, but it’s different somehow, when it’s someone you love.

 

He walks over to him and rests a hand on the small of his back. Hanzo isn’t big on public displays of affection but Jesse knows he’s comfortable with this. “We could learn it together then.”

 

Hanzo looks up at him, the corner of his mouth ticking up. “Will you use the small wheels?”

 

“Training wheels? Sugar, if it helps, I’ll do what I have to.”

 

“You know I would be forced to send pictures of that to my brother.”

 

Jesse leans against him a little bit, just to be closer. “I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

  
  
  


 

 

Neither of them are big gin drinkers but the bar down the street from their apartment offers hardly anything else - but in enough varieties to fill a whole menu.

 

It’s not quite warm enough for outside seating but they choose a small table out on the church square anyway. The minster looms large up into the pink evening sky. Despite the early hour, the tables around them are slowly but surely filling up with people who are also willing to brave the chilly spring night.

 

When the waitress comes to take their order, she has two red fleece blankets slung over her arm. Jesse lets Hanzo have both of them.

 

They have fun for a while, picking out strange-sounding gins and mixing them with tonics and garnishes. Jesse finally settles on a peppery German one, only partially because he likes the lavender garnish that comes with it. Hanzo picks out an elderberry tonic and a rosemary garnish so big it sits in his glass like a sad fir tree.

 

Later, Jesse can still taste both of them on his tongue when he presses him up against the wall in their hallway, giddy with gin and love and Hanzo.

 

“I did not think it would be like this,” Hanzo says afterwards, his face cushioned on Jesse’s chest and every part of his body as close to him as possible, seeking that warmth his own body never seems to want to retain.

 

Jesse pulls him a little closer with one arm. “The Netherlands?”

 

“Living with you.”

 

“We’ve lived together before. Where’s that good memory of yours now, darlin’?” He gently pokes Hanzo in the side just to hear him huff a little. He gets that and a tiny indignant glare before Hanzo settles down again.

 

“Not like this.” He pauses for a moment. “Alone. In an apartment. No mission.”

 

Jesse ponders this for a second. “Heck, sugar. I think you’re right. Does this count as our first apartment then? Are we supposed to celebrate that?”

 

Hanzo laughs, a soft sound that washes over Jesse like sunshine. “I think we celebrated quite enough today. Without an occasion.” He traces the line of a scar on Jesse’s stomach. “I think technically this one is still paid by Overwatch.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

They’re quiet for a while. Hanzo’s clever fingers trace every scar on his stomach and chest before Jesse speaks again.

 

“I’d like it to be like this, though. Our first apartment. The one Overwatch won’t be paying for.”

 

Hanzo’s fingers still for just a second before resuming their work. “You have been thinking about that.”

 

Jesse makes a noncommittal noise but when Hanzo doesn’t say anything more, he sighs. “For a while.”

 

“You did not say anything before.”

 

“Didn’t know how to. It’s not really something you just… bring up, you know? When you’re not even sure yourself.”

 

He waits for the question. He dreads it but some part of him almost wishes that Hanzo would just ask.

 

He doesn’t.

 

“I think I would like to live somewhere warmer,” he says instead, his fingers drawing circles on Jesse’s skin. “I do not like the cold.”

 

Jesse laughs and a bit of his anxiety ebbs away. “Really? Almost couldn’t tell.”

 

“Europe is too cold.”

 

“Not all of Europe.”

 

“Enough of it.” Hanzo runs his blunt nails over Jesse’s skin and it’s enough to curl his toes. “I would like to go somewhere because we want to. Not because…” He breaks off, his fingers halting as well, and Jesse knows.

 

“Cape Town was a shit show,” he says and the words drop into the silence like stones into a deep lake.

 

Hanzo doesn’t move, doesn’t look at him. “That is one way to put it.”

 

“I’ve had worse,” Jesse says quietly. “We both have.”

 

“That does not console me.”

 

Getting beat within the inch of his life and getting out of it with only a shattered knee as lasting damage is something Jesse would usually call luck, but he’s not about to push it. Instead, he runs his fingers through Hanzo’s hair, feeling the tight knots of tension at the nape of his neck.

 

“Hey,” he says softly. “What do you think about Greece?”

  
  
  
  


 

Somehow, nobody told them about the rain.

 

“I think this is just normal now. That’s just how it’s gonna be from now on,” Jesse says on the fourth day of continuous rain, looking out onto the grey wet street below.

 

“I think it is just April.” Hanzo puts his book down and watches him from the sofa. “Or perhaps it is just the Netherlands.”

 

“That’s not really lifting my spirits here, sweetheart.” Jesse turns away from the window but only takes two steps before bright pain shoots up through his leg. He grits his teeth against it but to no avail. He manages to hold on to the back of one of the kitchen chairs but his sudden movement is enough to get Hanzo’s attention. He’s off the couch before Jesse can even think about protesting.

 

“Is it your knee?”

 

Jesse waves him off but Hanzo’s already by his side, pulling out a chair with one hand while supporting his body with the other.

 

“No need to fuss. Just turned around too quickly, that’s all.”

 

He’s never been able to fool Hanzo. Everyone else. But never him.

 

“You have been in pain for days. Is it the rain?”

 

Jesse shrugs, annoyance gnawing somewhere deep in his belly as Hanzo pulls out another chair and helps him put his leg up.

 

“Angela said it’d be sensitive to stuff like this. Just didn’t think it’d be a problem so soon.”

 

“Roll up your pants,” Hanzo says, straightening up. “I will get the ointment.”

 

“Don’t,” Jesse says, holding him back by grabbing his sleeve. “You’ve been playing nurse for far too long. I’m sure this will -”

 

“I have not been playing anything.” There’s something hard as flint in Hanzo’s eyes when he looks at him and Jesse knows he messed up.

 

“Shit. Sorry, that’s not what I -”

 

“I understand that this is frustrating for you. But that is not how this works. That is not how we do things.”

 

Jesse looks at him. There’s color in cheeks, his mouth a tight line. He doesn’t see Hanzo angry often anymore. But this time… Shit.

 

He lets go of Hanzo’s sleeve and takes his hand instead. Hanzo allows it. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I just…” He sighs and Hanzo squeezes his hand, just a little bit. “I’d appreciate the help. Just let me get somewhere a little bit more comfortable.”

 

Jesse’s never considered himself particularly graceful but there’s something almost comical about the way he hops over to the bed on one foot with only Hanzo holding him up. He’d laugh if the dull pain in his knee wasn’t so persistent.

 

It’s routine by now - even if he hoped they’d left this one behind them. He leans back against the headboard while Hanzo helps him prop up his left leg on a pillow. When Jesse moves to roll up his pant leg, Hanzo clicks his tongue and pushes his hands away.

 

“Take your pants off,” he orders, already busy rummaging through the drawer of their bedside table.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t make associate those sweet words with something so unpleasant.” But he knows Hanzo’s right and after a bit of griping, he pulls down his pants. Hanzo helps him remove them completely, his movements all practical and clinical.

 

The next part is never pleasant. He can see where the knee is slightly swollen already, the scars from the surgery standing out against his skin in an angry red. Hanzo works the ointment in with careful, practiced fingers but Jesse still hisses at the pain that shoots through his leg.

 

“It is not infected but you have been walking on it for too long,” Hanzo says, not without rebuke. “Your muscles have tensed up again.”

 

“It’s not that -” Whatever words he planned to say are forgotten when Hanzo digs his thumbs into the tense muscles of his thigh, just above the knee. Jesse doesn’t quite howl but it’s close. “Son of a _bitch_.”

 

Hanzo looks up at him, a steep line in between his eyebrows.

 

“Sorry,” Jesse says and grits his teeth against the pain.

 

“I do not mind your swearing,” Hanzo says, his hand gentling just a little bit. “But I mind you being reckless with your health.”

 

“I know.” Jesse takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

 

It feels like ages until his muscle finally softens underneath Hanzo’s fingers. It hurts like hell and he knows that pain’s going to stay for a while but it’s a first step. A necessary step.

 

“I will get you a painkiller,” Hanzo says when they’re done. “And a glass of water.”

 

He returns with both after having washed his hands. The scent of Angela’s ointment is still sharp in the air. Jesse takes the pill under Hanzo’s watchful eyes and finishes the water as well.

 

“Come here,” he says afterwards, tugging on Hanzo’s sleeve. “Let me love on you a little.”

 

Hanzo comes willingly, carefully climbing into bed and letting himself be pulled close to Jesse’s side.  He only protests when Jesse tries to pull him on his lap, his face already buried in the crook of his neck.

 

“You will undo all my hard work.”

 

“Let me,” Jesse says, his breath hot against Hanzo’s neck. “It’s better than any painkiller.”

 

“You can only say that _because_ of the painkiller.”

 

“Maybe.” He sneaks one hand under the hem of Hanzo’s shirt and up his spine. “Doesn’t disprove my theory, though.” He can see that last bit of resistance in Hanzo’s eyes, all of it born out of worry, but it melts away when he leans up to kiss him.

 

There’s no hurry to any of it, they can take their time. Outside, the rain is still pattering against the windows, coming and going with every gust of wind. By the time they’ve shed their clothes and Hanzo slowly grinds down against him, it’s completely dark outside. In the dimmed light of their bedside lamp, every curve and every angle of Hanzo’s body looks like a miracle.

 

When he finally leans over to get the lube out of the drawer, Jesse can’t help but sink his teeth into his side, all soft skin and toned muscle. It gets him a little hiss and a scowl but it’s definitely worth it.

 

Jesse opens him up slowly, one slick finger at a time, with Hanzo still on his lap and holding on to his shoulders for dear life.

 

Jesse thinks he could stay forever like this, in this moment. With Hanzo riding his fingers, so responsive to the smallest movement. He looks at Jesse, his lips slightly parted and panting. He doesn’t look away, even when Jesse crooks his fingers just so. There’s a small steep line in between his eyebrows, all his focus on the feeling of Jesse inside of him.

 

He’s beautiful.

 

Jesse leans in and captures his lips in a kiss. Hanzo melts into him, his whole body soft and pliant, and Jesse takes the opportunity to add a third finger. With a shameless groan, Hanzo breaks of their kiss to drop his forehead against Jesse’s shoulder, rocking back on his fingers.

 

“You’re eager today,” Jesse says.

 

Hanzo doesn’t look up, panting heavily against Jesse’s sweat-slick skin. “And you are taking your time.”

 

Jesse laughs softly. “I just like to savor the moment, sweetheart. You all sweet and pretty on my lap. That’s a sight to enjoy.”

 

“You tease.” Hanzo pushes himself into an upright position, the nails of his fingers digging into the meat of Jesse’s shoulders. “Of all the things in which to finally demonstrate some patience.”

 

He’s baiting him and Jesse knows it. When he only gets a little smile in response, Hanzo’s frown deepens. He opens his mouth to say more but Jesse crooks his fingers just a little bit, brushing against that sweet spot Hanzo’s been trying to get to himself for the past fifteen minutes.

 

Whatever Hanzo wanted to say, the words transform into a moan so wanton, it shoots straight to Jesse’s dick.

 

“Shit, darlin’. Look at you. You think you could come from this alone?”

 

Hanzo digs his nails in a little more. “You would not dare.” The defiance in his eyes makes Jesse laugh -  the little noise of betrayal he makes when Jesse pulls out of him, even more.

 

“You sitting all sweet and pretty on something else might be an even better sight…”

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes but reaches to grab the lube from where Jesse has dropped it next to them. When Jesse tries to take it out of his hands, he shakes his head and uncaps it himself. It’s revenge, Jesse thinks - the slow, deliberate way Hanzo reaches between them and takes him in hand. He doesn’t break eye contact at all, not even when he finally lines him up and slowly sinks down on his cock.

 

When he’s fully seated, Jesse hands fly to his hips, just to hold him steady. It gets him every time, the tight perfect heat of him.

 

“Darlin’”, he says, his voice just a hoarse whisper. “Sweetheart. You’re killin’ me.”

 

Hanzo doesn’t say anything, just lifts himself a little bit and slowly sinks down again. It’s excruciating. It’s maddening. It’s perfect.

 

Hanzo leans forward and presses his lips against the side of Jesse’s neck. He follows up with teeth, just the smallest bite, and then a single word.

 

“Harder.”

 

Jesse’s got plans for when his knee is all healed up. Most of them involve fucking Hanzo into the mattress. Or up against a wall. But for now, this is good enough.

 

It’s difficult to get the momentum both of them crave in this position, with his arms literally doing most of the heavy lifting. He knows they’ll probably hurt in the morning, but it’s worth it. He grips Hanzo’s hips tightly enough to bruise and pulls him down again and again, spurned on by the sounds Hanzo makes every time he bottoms out.

 

Hanzo was close before and it doesn’t take long before he goes taut in Jesse’s grip. He come with a shout, making a mess of them both and squeezing tightly around Jesse. The look on his face is enough for Jesse to follow soon after.

 

He knows Hanzo likes to clean up quickly, no matter how tired he is afterwards. But for once, Hanzo allows himself to be held for longer than a few minutes, slumped in Jesse’s arms with his lips pressed against the side of his neck.

 

Jesse runs a hand up his spine, just enjoying the feeling of being close to him. They’re sweaty and sticky and soon enough they’ll have to clean up. Soon enough his knee is going to start aching again, probably along with his arms this time. Soon enough they’ll have to get up and leave.

 

But for now, Jesse’s good right here.

**Author's Note:**

> About fic requests inquire [here.](http://damnable-rogue.tumblr.com/ask)  
> You can also find me on Tumblr, if you want: [damnable-rogue](http://damnable-rogue.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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